Roxelana & Suleyman

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Suleyman patted Tugra’s bejeweled mane in pride. She had behaved nobly amongst the celebrations of the morning, bearing herself in a manner worthy of her position. She trotted the length of the First Courtyard of Topkapi Palace, through the gauntlet of tens of thousands of Janissary Troops. They stood in perfectly straight lines stretching from the main Imperial Gate, Suleyman had just entered, to the Gate of Salutations which led into the Second Courtyard of the palace. They were without motion and utterly silent, as a sign of respect for the Grand Turk.

Suleyman could not help but exult, for, though the officers around him were soundless, the First Courtyard was filled with the roar of the crowds celebrating outside the palace walls. Like great waves the noise crashed over the ancient parapets, coursed around the thousands of officers in their exact lines, swept amongst the cypress and plane trees that studded the yard, swirled about the barracks and storerooms of the Janissaries, and eddied into the niches and porticos of Aya Eirene and the Imperial Mint.

The new Sultan pulled back on Tugra’s reins. The immaculate white horse turned and Suleyman was imbued with satisfaction by the rippling strength beneath him as she came to a standstill under the arch of the Gate of Salutations. The carriages of the Valide Sultana entered the court and approached through the military gauntlet. When they stopped, he dismounted and crossed the gravel to the first of the carriages.

The silhouette of the Valide Sultana was discernible through the shimmering gauze. Slapping his right hand onto his heart he bowed and advanced to her side. Parting the material, and leaning into the carriage, he kissed the exposed flesh of her out-held hand.

“Mother,” he breathed, peering into her eyes with a deep love and reverence.

“Son,” she returned, clasping his face between her hands and kissing him fully on the lips.

Suleyman closed his eyes for the moment to feel the texture of his mother’s mouth on his. When she pulled away, he ran his tongue over the spit on his lips, tasting the sweetness left behind. He held her hand to his cheek and kissed her again on the wrist. His thoughts followed her attention as she scrutinized the enveloping flow of the caftan about his body and hesitated on what he knew she desired more than anything—the power of the Sultanate and the future of the Empire.

He felt a deep ache inside which he knew he could never extinguish without her... or with her.

“In the last carriage, my son, is my love for you.”

Suleyman hesitated, but then pulled his torso from the carriage—letting the diaphanous material fall back in place. He glanced at the nearest Janissary Officer who stood silently, solidly, a few feet distant.

The new Sultan gaited past the carriage still heavily laden with ducats and jewels for the Janissary entourage and then passed the carriages containing his three sisters. Even through the layers of gauze he noticed Khadija stick out her tongue and cross her eyes.

He threw her a wink.

* * * *

Haseki waited behind the pearl-encrusted gauze of her carriage, trembling as the Grand Turk approached. She strained to see him when he stopped to stroke the mane of the horse that had pulled her through the city. He was a striking figure in the black and gold clothing that flowed around him. His face was gentle, his skin almost as white as her own. He turned and she saw the line of his nose, lips and chin. Handsome. Haseki squirmed uncomfortably in the plush velvet—the beating of her heart quickening. He had reached her carriage and now stood there, as if transfixed, staring through the gossamer.

He leaned forward and pulled the fabric to the side—wrapping it behind him so that he was also covered from the view of the Janissaries.

Haseki’s heart stopped—his face only inches from her own. His eyes were dark; his mouth was.... His lips were.... As the warmth of his hand reached up to loosen her veil, a tear escaped her eye and rolled down, only to stop precariously on the top of her cheek.

The veil of diamonds fell to her lap.

Suleyman’s eyes widened. His mouth opened slightly. His gaze caressed her face, as his breathing became louder. He grasped her hand and held it to his chest—his heart was racing.

Haseki could feel herself falling into the depths of his eyes, into the warmth of his lips.

He’s....

Placing his hand on the seat of the carriage, Suleyman reached further up and into the luxury. The sweetness of his breath passed over Haseki’s face.

Softly, he placed his lips on her cheek and kissed away the tear.